Shit

forgot to fill the bucket ’gain.

They won’t let me forget it

— not for 1 second.

Gotta keep the clocks running on graphite

all night,

& then it falls on us all

— ¿& who ya gonna call?

You don’t have the network to just say “Fuck it”, grandson.

You done dumped the bakers dozen with the unscrubbed bathtub, cousin,

leaving thin, few soup stuffed with supertension salt.

When in the way o’ the crabby, you learn to dig graves.

Grasping clump o’ sand after clump o’ sand...

“Everything is safe here”, they said.

& e’en in the mirror mode,

I still await my punishment for eating my cookies too early.